


Plus-One

by thecurlyginger



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 19:22:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2162175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecurlyginger/pseuds/thecurlyginger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mark gets married, Ben accompanies Leslie to the wedding. AU set after "Jerry's Painting."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plus-One

**Author's Note:**

> I came up with the idea for this fic after scrolling on tumblr and finding a list of AUs, including one person taking the other to his/her ex's wedding. Though Mark isn't technically Leslie's ex, I thought there could be some tension to work with. Enjoy!

Mark Brendanawicz's departure from city government to work for Norton Construction is a perfect example for Leslie of people being close to you only because you work with them. At first, Leslie emailed him weekly, trying to cope with the boredom involved with having her department shut down during the budget crisis. She'd tell him “JJ asked about you the other day” or “Tom misses having someone to start trouble with,” and he'd reply telling her how his new job is going and how great it is to be actually working and making progress for once. It's a little cynical; just what she'd expect from him.

But soon replies would take days to get to. A good month or so would go by before Leslie sent him an email to catch up. He congratulated her on the Harvest Festival, and then that was it. Radio silence. Now she's busy herself, so she doesn't take too much offense from it. They're too different people with drastically different opinions of government work, and without her pining over him or seeing him attached to Ann's arm, she's less inclined to seek him out for anything. That's why it surprises Leslie to receive not just any mailed correspondence from one M. Brendanawicz but a _wedding invitation_. She calls Ann instantly upon reading it.

“Did you see this in the mail?” Leslie asks, still incredulously reading the fancy card stock.

Ann hums, confused. “Uh, the half-off sale at Lady Footlocker? It's a good deal, I guess.” Oh silly, beautiful Ann.

“Mark's getting married!”

“'Tis the season for all my exes, I suppose,” Ann trails off, referencing Andy's marriage to April just two weeks ago.

Leslie finds her reply card, complete with guest invite information and the meal options: Beef, Chicken, or Veggie. “So are you going?”

“I didn't get an invite, and I doubt I will. He's probably still bitter about our breakup,” Ann offers casually. It's been months since she last spoke to Mark to give some closure, and in that time, she's started and ended things with Chris _and_ had a string of dates with multiple men. Leslie knows her best friend is far-separated from Mark, but a little excitement would be nice.

“So what? You can be my plus-one! We can go to a nice reception, enjoy the free bar--”

“I think if Mark wanted me to go, he would have invited me.” Ann cuts in. “I appreciate it Leslie, but I don't want to go to his wedding. I'm happy for him, though, so send him my regards.”

Leslie's stunned into silence for a second. Surely Ann will turn around. Doesn't she want to see the woman Mark's going to marry for the satisfaction that he had to settle for a lesser woman? And according to Leslie, every woman is lesser in comparison to Ann Perkins.

“Okay,” Leslie finally says sighing before changing the subject. Ann will definitely come with her, she thinks, so she checks the box for a plus-one and writes the name _A. Perkins_ down.

The following day at work, Leslie is hesitant to bring up the invitation to her co-workers in case someone isn't invited. But Tom comes in with swagger (she's still not sure what that means), turning around in the center of the department and pulling the invitation from his breast pocket. “Who else is going to laugh at Brendanawicz, the biggest player on this planet, for getting chained down to one woman?”

Though Leslie vocalizes her protest at his choice of words, everyone including Jerry raises their hand with enthusiasm. The room is buzzing with questions about wedding presents and the registry and who the mystery woman is. Donna looks her up on Facebook and discovers that his fiance is Mindy Norton, the daughter of Franklin Norton - owner and founder of Norton Construction.

“She must be loaded!” Tom exclaims. “This wedding is going to be dope as hell!” He high-fives Donna while Leslie returns to work. She'll have to remember that fact when convincing Ann to come closer to the date.

A few weeks pass, and Mark's wedding approaches with alarming speed. Leslie tries to drop the event in conversation with Ann, hoping that she'll cave and let go of her reservations. But Ann continues to shrug it off, never taking the bait. Finally, the day before the wedding, Leslie comes right out and asks, “I'm picking you up at 3pm tomorrow, right?”

“Picking me up for what? What's-- Oh, Leslie, _no_. I was serious. I'm not going.” Ann's face is stern, her arms crossed at her chest.

Leslie flounders. “But... I RSVP'd for two people! There's going to be a plate for A. Perkins that they already paid for.”

“Leslie,” Ann sighs, rubbing her eyes with frustration, “that's not my fault now, is it? I've gotta get back to work.” And she turns away into a patient's room without looking back. So much for a nice lunch.

Returning to the office solemnly, Leslie looks around for inspiration. Who can she bring? Everyone has a guest or has RSVP'd for just themselves, like she should have done. Then, as if on cue, Ben walks in.

She and Ben are in a situation, to put it mildly. Leslie's beyond denying to herself that she's interested in him, and if her guess as to who he wanted to ask out (to Chris' rejection) is correct, it's mutual. Which would be great - were it not for _Chris' rejection_. His no dating rule is frustrating to say the least; it makes her feel hopeless and more than a little depressed. But surely she and Ben can do something platonically for the good of a paid-for chicken entree.

“Hey, Ben,” Leslie calls, “could you join me...” Tom's in her office, everyone's at their desks. Damn. “Could you join me in the courtyard?”

Ben nods and puts his hands in his pockets. “Sure.”

It's halfway there that Leslie realizes this just a casual invitation. No need to be nervous or secretive, but really, _nothing's_ casual with Ben anymore. Every movement, every inflection on her words is calculated.

Once they're safely outside, she tries to indifferently lean against the wall but thinks she looks like a parody of someone trying to act cool, so she stands up straight. Just ask him. “Do you remember Mark Brendanawicz from City Planning?”

“Yeah, sorta. He left when the government shut down, right? Kinda cynical?”

Leslie smiles eagerly like he's winning a game of charades. “Yeah, that's the guy! He's getting married tomorrow, and I'm invited. Ann was supposed to go with me but she doesn't want to.” Best not to tell him the whole story. “I told them I'd be bringing a guest, and I feel badly because they've probably already paid by plate. Do you, maybe, want to be my plus-one?”

He eyes her, tilting his head up slightly as if working out the situation. Leslie feels like it'd be overkill if she insisted it would be fun or that it doesn't have to be weird because for all she knows, Ben really wanted to ask someone _else_ out or is over her now or a million other possibilities she's thinking of so intently that she misses his answer.

“Hm? Sorry, I didn't--”

“I said I'll go with you,” he repeats, his mouth quirking up and his eyes crinkling.

Leslie lets out the breath she's been holding, relieved and more than just a little excited if she's honest. “Great! I'll pick you up tomorrow at 3pm.” They do their secret handshake, and it feels normal, like they're made to go out together and casually arrange plans. Ben's about to go back in for whatever reason he came to her department in the first place when she quickly asks, “Do you like chicken? 'Cause I kinda checked that off for you.”

“It's fine,” he says before stepping in, a light chuckle in his words. Leslie thinks that tomorrow evening might actually be fine as well.

Sometime around noon the following day as Leslie rummages through her closet for an outfit, she comes to the realization that Ben doesn't know about her history with Mark. He doesn't know she and Mark had a one night stand, that she spent years clinging to the hope that he'd change and see her in a new light even after it was clear that he never gave their fling a second thought. A part of Leslie wants to dress up nicely to show Mark too that she has moved on and is capable of being more than just the happy-go-lucky government employee.

Though she'd usually go to Ann's closet for consultation in this type of situation, Leslie still feels a little guilty and doesn't want to rub the wedding in her best friend's face anymore. Instead, she reaches into the far back, sliding hangers toward the middle. There in all of it's red, form-fitting glory is the dress Leslie wore the night she and Mark had slightly drunken sex in this very bedroom. It's by no means inappropriate, falling mid-thigh and not showing too much cleavage, but the way it hugs Leslie's curves is enough to warrant her to at least try it on.

Stepping into the dress, Leslie closes the closet door to look into her mirror. She turns around, running her hands over her ass to smooth it out. With some smokey eyeshadow and black heels, Leslie might be able to turn the head of a certain assistant city manager. It's another hour before Leslie is done pacing around her home and debating whether or not this dress is a good idea, but it's been eight years since she wore this dress for Mark, and it's about time she take control of the situation – even if taking control means wearing control-top underwear and walking with a bit more confidence in her step.

Once she's checked that her eyes look suitably smokey, she slips on her pumps and grabs her purse. Of course, there's no way to look too sexy while driving and making sure your dress doesn't hike up too far, so Leslie has that discomfort to look forward to as she texts Ben that she's on her way. He is thankfully waiting outside (so she doesn't have to debate between a handshake or hug greeting), dressed in a nice black suit jacket and pants, one of his trademark skinny ties completing the look. Leslie rolls down her window.

“Looks like you could use a ride,” she says in an attempt to be suave. “Hop in!”

Ben walks around the front of the car and opens the passenger door before sliding in. As he turns to greet her, Leslie can see him subtly look her up and down, her legs stretched out by the pedal and her dress a little higher up than it should be. “Hey,” he pushes out finally, blinking and returning to normal.

To say this pleases Leslie would be an understatement. Her heart is beating loudly in her chest, and she's fighting off a victorious grin. Turning back to the house, she asks, “Do Andy and April need a ride? I completely forgot to ask yesterday.”

“No, they said something about watching her parents' house this weekend while they're away, so they're all set.” Ben says it more to the windshield as he buckles his seatbelt. Though she doesn't verbalize it, Leslie's relieved that they'll have the car to themselves.

Checking her mirrors, she pulls back onto the road and drives toward the Pawnee Lutheran Church. It'll be a short drive, so Leslie opts for no music. She doesn't anticipate silence, however. There's not a lot to say, considering how often she sees him at work and how many lunches they spend together. Tapping her fingers against the wheel, she finally comes up with a topic: “So what's it like living with Andy and April?”

“It was nightmarish,” Ben begins, “but Andy's good in the way of wanting to better himself and his living situation, so he took my suggestions to buy silverware and plates.”

Leslie cracks a smile. “Aw, that's nice.” Seeing the church ahead, she turns into the parking lot and eventually finds a space. It's crowded; Leslie wonders if the guest list leans heavily on either family's side. “Here we are.”

The two get out of the car, Leslie using the opportunity of Ben facing the opposite direction to quickly pull down her dress some. She has to look respectable, after all. He meets her by the back of the car, and the two walk side by side.

“You look beautiful, by the way,” Ben says softly.

The compliment makes her blush, so she looks down humbly for a moment and composes herself. “You look pretty dapper yourself, Mr. Wyatt. I'm happy that you agreed to be my guest,” Leslie earnestly adds to the end.

They find seats near the middle, signing the guest list on the way in. Leslie waves to Ron, Jerry, and Gayle, already seated up ahead, and when Donna and Tom walk in, she gestures for them to sit by her and Ben. They decline to sit near some of the bride's wealthy, attractive guests, and in the end, only Andy and April sit beside them. The latter contemplates finding holy water to splash at Mindy's face to see if she starts sizzling while the former starts reading passages aloud from the bible in front of him, giggling at some of the dated laws. Leslie ignores them and starts people-watching until Ben touches her arm.

“If you don't mind me asking, why isn't Ann here? I thought she was an honorary part of the Parks gang while Mark still worked at City Hall.” Ben's question is legitimate, so Leslie decides to tell him the truth about her pushiness when an organ sounds. The ceremony's starting.

Leslie turns to watch Mark walk down the aisle. “I'll tell you later,” she whispers to Ben. As he turns to watch as well, nodding in response, she can feel how close he is, their hands touching just barely as they hold onto the back of their pew.

Once the bridesmaids and groomsmen all pass by, each face foreign to Leslie, everyone stands. The organ starts to play “Here Comes the Bride,” and Mindy walks down. She's breathtaking, her long, white dress flowing around her like a brilliant waterfall. Not even her veil can mask her beauty, and though Leslie thinks Ann is a more beautiful woman, not even she can deny that Mark has done well for himself. Once Mindy is before him, he lifts her veil, tears shining in his eyes and down her sweet face.

From start to finish, Leslie's breath is short, trying to contain her own tears. She's a sucker for a good wedding, and hearing Mark's vows in which he met Mindy at the right time and fell in love with her instantly, every moment feeling like a piece of the lifetime he wanted to share with her, Leslie lets her tears stream. She deftly reaches into her purse for a tissue, glad that she's always prepared, and Ben looks over. They lock eyes for a second, and he smiles with his lips pressed together, communicating that he feels it too.

The organ sounds again, ending their moment and the ceremony. Everyone stands while the happy, newly married couple walk out, moving to follow their direction and head to the reception. Andy pushes out, exclaiming, “C'mon babe, let's beat everyone to the booze and food!” with April on his tail. Leslie and Ben take their time shuffling through the crowd.

“That was _beautiful_ ,” Leslie says, still in awe. “I'm going to cry again just thinking about it.”

Ben rubs her shoulder gently. It's comfortably intimate. “Don't do that, just think about awful stuff. Seeing people cry makes me wanna cry.” Leslie giggles in response, sniffling to get a hold of herself. They get into the car, and Leslie pulls out of the spot to drive to the reception, but the parking lot is backed up. While they sit, they can see the bride and groom's families taking portraits.

“Speaking of awful stuff and since we'll be here a while,” Leslie starts, resting one hand in her lap, “Ann's not here because she wasn't invited. She and Mark dated until just about the time you and Chris showed up. The whole government shut down and Ann's dumping him right as he was about to propose to her is kind of the reason he left city government.”

Ben looks at her, slightly confused. “That doesn't sound too awful.”

Leslie grimaces. “The awful part is me RSVPing for two because I thought she would get over not wanting to come. I stepped all over her and tried to guilt her afterward.”

“I see.”

“I don't want you to think that I'm settling with you as my guest and not being happy you're here. You're no Ann Perkins, but you clean up nicely. And I like spending time with you.” The last part is said without her goofing disposition, sincere to the last word. The traffic moves, so Leslie puts her attention on the road.

Ben looks through his window. “I hope you weren't too pissed off when I said no to going out to dinner with you a few days ago. It's not that I didn't want to go, it's just--”

“I know. Chris said something to me offhandedly about it later and I put two and two together. It's quite a rule that he has...” Leslie trails off, not sure how else to phrase it.

“It's fucking stupid,” Ben says curtly. That's one way to phrase. “Yeah, I get the point of it considering this is local government and the tax payer's money that we're working with, so no one wants to know if a certain department gets a little extra aid for less-than-professional reasons. But,” he sighs, “I don't like it.”

She's torn between laughing at how he sounds like an indignant child and telling him how glad she is that this _thing_ between them has been openly acknowledged. “Let's just not think about it tonight,” Leslie offers. “It'll be you and me having fun and enjoying the party with the people we work with. Deal?”

“Yeah, deal,” Ben replies, and it's not with begrudging malice but with genuine interest. Because what's one night?

After parking among a flock of guests' cars, Ben and Leslie walk through the Pawnee SuperSuites to the Jermaine Jackson Ballroom. “I've never seen it so beautiful before,” she comments while walking up to the check-in table. “Leslie Knope,” she tells the woman behind the table who scrolls through a list of names.

“Here we are. Leslie Knope and this must be your guest, Mr. Perkins. You're seated at table 12.” Before Leslie or Ben can correct her, the woman's onto the next guest.

Leslie can't control the full-on cackle that's bubbling out of her. “Remember when I said it'll be you and me? I guess it'll be me and Mr. A. Perkins! That's _amazing_.”

Pushing her with his shoulder, Ben can't help but laugh too. “What does the A stand for?”

“Andrew? No, we've already got Andy here. Anthony?”

“ _Anakin_ ,” Ben says with finality. “Anakin Perkins.” He pulls out Leslie's chair for her and sits beside her, picking up the A. Perkins place card.

Leslie leans over to look at it, forgoing personal space without giving it a second thought. “You're such a _nerd_. I'm not calling you a name you took from _Star Wars_.” But there's still a goofy, laughter-induced grin on her face, so Ben takes no offense. “Drinks?”

They find Andy and April at the bar. “Lovely wedding, right?” Ben asks them. Andy's just stuffed a full appetizer in his mouth so he nods with wide, appreciative eyes while April gives off an ambiguous glare.

“It was nice if you like boring traditional stuff and crying old ladies,” she says before Andy drags her to another server carrying tiny meatballs.

Ben watches them go with the same bewilderment they usually warrant, while Leslie asks, “What would Mr. Perkins like to drink?”

He turns to see her with a glass of wine, looking at him expectantly. “A, uh... you know what? He'd like a martini. A _vodka_ martini,” Ben requests. Leslie can see the glint in his eye, and a thrill runs through her. This is going to be an interesting game.

Once Ben has his drink, they return to the table to find the rest of the Parks and Recreation Department, plus Gayle on Jerry's arm. Last night, Leslie thought of an explanation as to why Ben was her guest, but no one even questions it. It's a testament to him becoming part of the team; she takes a moment to let that sink it. Small talk flows through the table for short while, broken when Mark and Mindy finally arrive to the party to a round of applause. While they settle in, the first course – a simple green salad – is placed before everyone.

Ron takes that cue to leave for another drink, but the rest of the table enjoys it, Andy reaching over to steal Ron's salad. Jerry drones on about his and Gayle's wedding, Tom interrupting with laughter at the thought of Jerry leading the Bunny Hop dance. Leslie's just finished her wine when a waiter comes around to take their plates. She excuses herself and brings back another glass of wine and another vodka martini for Ben.

“I take it Anakin is a _James Bond_ fan?” Leslie asks after Ben takes his drink with appreciation.

Ben sips it slowly, a sophisticated expression on his face. “Oh, Anakin's got great taste.”

“Tell me more about him,” Leslie requests, leaning onto his every word, nodding and giggling at the details.

Apparently, Anakin Perkins went to school in New York, loves Broadway musicals (Leslie added that fact), and came to Pawnee to work in advertising for Sweetums and Kernston's Rubber Nipples. “He loves Ramsett Park,” Leslie inserts, “and goes there to walk while listening to the most inspiring songs of his favorite musicals.”

“Is that what Leslie Knope likes to do too?” Ben asks, looking at her with amusement. “Because that's pretty sweet.”

She nods slowly, unsure of what to say next until the main course is served, and a plate of roasted chicken is placed before them. “I hope Anakin likes chicken, because that what I chose for him over a month ago.”

“He loves it,” Ben says, cutting into it. Tom's taking a picture of his dinner, tagging Donna on Instagram per her request, while Ron is savoring his beef entree. Looking beyond the table, Leslie can see Mark approaching.

She puts down her fork and gets up to greet him. “Mark!” The whole table turns around to him, and everyone's out of their seats instantly. Ron shakes his hand and produces two cigars, promising to smoke with him later. Tom pulls Mark into a hug, joking about settling down while Donna slaps his back and tells him he's done well for himself. Mark's surprised to see Andy and April together, let alone married, and asks Andy what his secret is to attracting so many women. Before Andy can respond, Jerry pulls Mark in for a tight hug and reintroduces him to Gayle. Finally, Leslie and Ben remain.

“Mark Brendanawicz.” Leslie hugs him tightly. “I guess city government was your curse all along. You left, you've got a great job and a beautiful wife... You're living the dream right about now.”

Mark laughs to himself. “Yeah, it's really something.” He turns to Ben. “Oh, it's uh, Bill, right?”

“Ben,” he corrects.

“Right, Ben. The state auditor guy. You're _still_ fixing Pawnee?” Mark's voice is humorous enough that it irritates Leslie, as if he's mocking the town and its government.

Ben shakes his head, stuffing his left hand into his pocket after giving Mark a firm handshake. “No, I'm assistant city manager now. I liked Pawnee enough to stay put for a while.” Leslie nods, feeling smug. Take that, Mark.

Looking between Ben and Leslie, Mark looks a little confused, like he's searching for someone. “Oh, sorry that Ann couldn't be here,” Leslie says. “It was so last minute that I didn't have a chance to call and change the guest name. She wanted me to congratulate you for her.”

“No problem. In fact, I'm a little relieved, you know? I'd be a little awkward having an ex here.” Mark smiles as if he's said the most obvious thing in the world. Stunned into silence, Leslie just stands there, letting him excuse himself without staying anything. Ben congratulates Mark before turning to her. Leslie's reaching out to a passing server's tray and grabs a glass of champagne, downing half of it in one gulp before Ben gets a word in.

“You okay?” He asks, guiding her back to their seats.

Leslie sits down, her mood ruined. “Yeah.” She's livid, though. After showing up, wearing this dress of all things, Mark can still just throw their past aside. Leslie keeps up conversation throughout the meal out of decency, drinking the rest of her champagne and letting her bubbling drunkenness carry her happy facade.

A dessert course and accompanying glass of port later, she and Ben are left sitting at the table. Ron's smoking with Mark and his buddies, Jerry and Andy are slow dancing with their wives, Donna's found a hunky man to hold around the waist, and Tom's talking sympathetically to each single woman he can find in hopes that she'll cave and dance with him. But Leslie and Ben can't dance to this song platonically. She feels like a jerk for closing off to him without explanation, so she looks out to the door leading to the hotel's courtyard.

She points to it. “Wanna walk outside for a bit?”

Ben follows her, the sound of the music fading as they walk along by the koi pond, twinkling fairy lights overhead. The confidence in Leslie's steps is replaced with more of a drunken hobbling, but after two vodka martinis, champagne, and the dessert port, Ben's not doing much better himself. They find a bench and sink down into it.

“I'm kind of the worst person because I still didn't tell you the whole story,” Leslie says, concentrating very hard on each word so that it doesn't come out slurred.

Ben turns to her, his knee brushing against hers. “What's wrong, Leslie?”

“Ann isn't Mark's only ex. He and I slept together. Once, like eight years ago. I was trying to get him to see how great city government could be, so I'd take him around to events and ask for his insight. But then we'd go out for drinks, and he'd find himself someone hot the way he always did.” Leslie takes a breath to calm her blurry mind. She looks to the pond before her, the fish swimming gently, interweaving with one another. “And one night I had enough. I took him to Eagleton where all the women are gorgeous. He thought he'd score, but he struck out with them like I knew he would.

“He was all sad, and I was fed up and that kind of drunk where you feel like you can do anything. So I said, 'When are you going to realize you have someone right here who's good enough?' I thought he'd finally seen me for the first time, because he let me take him home. Mark left before I woke up, and we never talked about it. I kept going after him for years until I realized that I would never be good enough for him, especially not after I became friends with Ann and he saw her. That's all it took – seeing her. The worst part is to this day, he doesn't even _consider_ me someone he shared anything with, not even enough to be awkward that he slept with me and I'm at his wedding, all happy for him.”

She crosses her arms against the cool breeze. Ben sits there, letting her words wash over him, like he's going to say something profound. “Mark's a dick.”

Leslie looks over to Ben, and once their lock eyes, they laugh hysterically. She leans over, her stomach aching and her hand holding onto Ben's leg for support. Once she can get a word out, let alone breathe, she says, “Yeah, he is.” Leslie wipes the tears from her eyes.

“Remember Cindy Eckart?” Ben asks after a long moment of silence, a small smile on his face and the fairy lights illuminating his eyes.

“Uh, the one who turned you down for prom and you felt up? Must've been a great time since you talked about it for five minutes to Perd Hapley on air,” she jokes, hoping she doesn't sound too jealous.

Ben's looking at Leslie with an expression that doesn't read nostalgia for a good time in his past, but rather insight. “She only let me feel her up because I won the election. And it _was_ pretty great, for an 18 year old. But then when I was impeached, I tried to call her because I needed someone to talk to, and I thought that my girlfriend, out of everyone, would be a good person to approach. Her dad picked up instead and told me that Cindy wanted nothing to do with me and that I could go rot in hell for what I did to Partridge. I was so depressed after that, but you know what I realize now?” Leslie shakes her head. Ben chuckles to himself, saying, “That Cindy's a dick. And so's her dad, Bruce. Once you realize the people who hurt you are terrible and not worth your time, it's easier to stop caring about them and to move on.”

She pulls him into a hug, reveling in the feeling of his hand rubbing her back, fingers brushing the bare skin of her shoulder blades. “That's the most meaningful anyone's made a story about feeling someone up,” Leslie says with her arms still wrapped around him. “Thank you.”

After enjoying the cool air that starts to sober them up, she eventually starts to shiver. “Let's go back in,” Ben says, holding out his arm for her to hold onto.

The music's lively again, and with the excuse that they need to move a little or else they won't be able to drive home anytime soon, Leslie and Ben dance to the “YMCA” and “Macarena,” laughing and bumping into each other all the while. It's innocent-looking enough, none of their co-workers giving them a second thought as they enjoy themselves as well. When they take a break, Ben gets them a couple of ice waters while Leslie brushes her now-disheveled hair from her face. They sip on their drinks while saluting Ron off and watching the rest of their friends trail out.

It's 11pm when Leslie peruses her inebriation chart to see how much she's had and when it's okay to drive again, just to be sure that she's as safe as she feeling. When they make it to the car and sit inside, Leslie sighing in the relief of being off her feet, Ben tells her, “I trust you if you think you're good to drive.” It's an incredibly sweet way to say it, rather than asking if she's okay or accusing her of endangering them. Confirming that she feels more than great, though that's due to more than just her sobriety, she pulls out of the parking lot.

They enjoy a quiet ride back to Ben's place, and it's all too short when they get there, Leslie parking out front. “Well, here we are,” she says lamely. She wants anything but this night to end after having a taste of Ben Wyatt being her guest, her date, _hers_. He's sitting there and not moving either, just staring out, so she wonders if he might be thinking the same. Then Ben unbuckles his seatbelt, and Leslie's halfway into absorbing the fact that he's going to leave and it's all going to end when he kisses her.

There's a moment in which Leslie forgets what to do in this situation. When Ben's tongue swipes her lower lip, that moment is gone, and Leslie's leaning into him, her hands on his shoulders before they move up to behind his head to pull him closer. They break apart so Leslie can unbuckle her own seatbelt, her body now able to move freely. Ben's arms wrap around her, hands running down her back to hold her waist. Their kisses are hot, lips moving for more in a passionate frenzy. His hand drops to her knee and runs up her thigh, eliciting a moan from Leslie. Like a bucket of ice water, it shocks the two of them out of it.

Breathing heavily, they look at each other, lips wet and swollen. Leslie can feel the electricity between them, the pull to go in for more, knowing that breaking away a second time won't be as easy. Once she can find her voice, she asks, “What would Anakin Perkins do in this moment?” Because _god_ , she needs direction, needs him to take a stance. Really, she just needs him.

“He would go inside alone and wish you goodnight,” Ben says uneasily, looking at Leslie like she's everything to him, including a risk.

She lets out a disappointed breath. “Oh. And Ben?”

“Yeah?”

“No, I mean, what would Ben Wyatt do?” Her palms are sweaty, so she rubs them on her legs as she waits. Like he's finding the answer in her, Ben reaches out and cups her face, kissing her again. It's soft, searching, and Leslie returns it.

She holds onto his shoulders to keep him there, keep him from leaving. Ben pulls back just a breath away, touching his forehead to her. “I'd ask you to come in with me.”

Leslie squeezes her eyes shut, nodding and beaming in acceptance. They get out of the car, Ben leading with her hand in his. She locks her car behind her, and Ben's reaching for the keys in his pocket to let them in the house. He guides her through the dark living room into his bedroom, closing the door behind him and flipping on the lights.

While the rest of the house is sparse, his room at least has some amenities, like a bed and bedside table. Leslie takes off her heels, humming in delight when she steps her bare feet onto the carpet. Walking over nervously, she sits on the bed and pats the spot next to her. Ben's in a daze though, looking at her in wonder like he can't believe she's here in his room. She can't believe it either, but she already wants his lips back on hers and his hand on her leg again, so she calls out, “Earth to Ben, you've got a lady in your room.”

He's back in the present, kicking off his shoes and running to sit beside her. But he still doesn't press his lips to hers, looking her over once again instead while trailing a hand up and down her forearm. Leslie takes charge and kisses him his time, pulling him close so that he's flush against her. Getting the message, he returns the kiss with vigor, nipping her lip so that she hisses against him. One of his hands wraps around her waist while the other sneaks up to her breast, cupping her through the dress. She moans into his mouth, wanting more, so he rubs his thumb over her covered nipple, moving to kiss her neck. Her hands run through his hair, her hair brushed aside so he can leave a wet trail down to her shoulder.

Ben pushes the sleeve of the dress down to kiss her shoulder and her collar bone, his hands searching for a zipper to pull. Shaking her head, Leslie just slides the dress down, pulling it so that pools around her waist, revealing her strapless black bra. He kisses the top of her chest, reaching a hand down to cup her under the material. Leslie unhooks the bra in the back and tosses it to the floor, Ben's mouth replacing his hand and sucking on one nipple before moving to the other. She gasps, arching into his mouth at the arousing sensation. But she misses his lips against hers, so she pulls his head back up and kisses him roughly.

Her hands move to push his jacket off his shoulders and unbutton his dress shirt. Once she gets to the bottom, Leslie pulls it out from where it's tucked in, tugging it. “That's my nice shirt,” he protests without real complaint in his voice.

“And it'll look nicer off you,” she says smugly, very pleased when she's right. His chest is lean and very warm when she feels it against hers as they kiss. Ben guides her to lay down by the pillows, pulling her dress all the way off and adding it to their pile of clothing on the floor. He massages her breasts while kissing down her stomach. His finger slowly runs over her slit through her panties, and Leslie cries out, “ _Fuck_ , Ben,” her hips arching against his touch. Ben pulls her panties down and discards them too, leaving Leslie completely nude.

Positioned so that he's sitting over her, his knees on either side of her legs, Ben just looks at her. It makes her feel self-conscious and nervous, like she needs to cover up and turn the lights out, so she tries to pull him back to her and kiss him. “No,” he says, “let me look at you. I want to memorize every single inch of you.” He slides down to kiss her legs, rubbing his hand along the inside of her thigh. His mouth kisses higher and higher, his hands rubbing dangerously close to where she really wants him to pay attention and memorize.

Finally, he gently separates her and pushes a finger inside, feeling how wet she is. Leslie writhes against him, gasping when he slides that finger up to rub her clit. Ben uses his other hand to hold her hip down and he positions his knees in between her legs, fanning them out. Her legs are wide open, open for him, and she can feel the flush in her face. Vulnerable, Leslie's never being this exposed before, and it's mind-numbingly sexy. Ben's moving his head down; she can feel his breath against her and holds still in anticipation. He licks experimentally, halfway between where he's rubbing her and her opening. She moans and figures Ben interprets that as a sign to make her completely lose coherent thought, because he pushes his tongue inside of her.

The sensation is too much, and what was a gentle build before is now an onslaught of pleasure – a warm fire deep in her core with sparks shooting through her body. Her legs are quivering, his hand on her hips moving down to steady them. Leslie's head against the pillows rises up as she comes, muttering nonsense curses and “yesyesyes” until the waves of pleasure subside. Back against the pillows and unable to move, she can feel the throbbing between her legs slow. Ben crawls back up to her, kissing her slowly and sensually. She tastes herself on his lips and runs her tongue along his lower lip for more. Partners have pleasured her orally before but never so intensely and thoroughly, and never has one seemed to have gotten as much pleasure from it himself as Ben.

Once she can move her arms again, Ben clearly amused and proud that she had to take a moment because of him, Leslie reaches down to remove his belt and unbutton his pants. He pulls them down with his briefs, kicking them both off. While she kisses him above her, she moves a hand down to grip his erection, moving up and down while he groans against her mouth. “That won't be necessary,” he tells her with a snigger, implying that he's more than fully aroused. “I don't think I need any help in that department.”

“Then _do_ something,” Leslie commands impatiently. She wraps her legs around him, trying to lead him inside her.

Ben kisses her cheek, and she can feel the smile on his face against hers. “Message received.” He reaches into the bedside drawer for a condom and puts it on quickly in response to her gesture to move things along. “What's the rush?” he asks as he positions himself and slides into her slowly.

Leslie forgets words for a moment, the feeling of Ben inside her wiping her mind clean until thoughts come back piece by piece. She pushes him in deeper using her legs, his eyes closing tightly in pleasure. “You know me,” she leans forward to whisper into his ear seductively, “I like to go _big_ or go home.” He barely gives her a chance to nibble on his earlobe, her words having such an effect on him that he's thrusting deeply and quickly. Leslie kisses him hard and cradles his head against her shoulder when he gets lost in the feeling of it all. Ben mutters “Fuck, you're so beautiful and I'm so – _fuck_ – I'm so lucky to be with you right now,” his voice so strained and honest that she clings to him tighter.

When he's close, his hips lose their rhythm. Leslie pulls him in for a kiss, lips drawing out his cry when the orgasm hits him. Even after he's done moving, he stays to keep kissing her, finishing with a tiny peck on the corner of her mouth. Ben groans as he pulls out and moves with unsteady legs to the bathroom outside to clean up.

Once she hears the faucet turn off, she gets up and walks out toward the bathroom to wash her face with a a makeup removal wipe from her purse. Leslie runs water over her face and dries it with the towel he offers her. The bathroom is so small that they're nearly standing on top of each other, so when he reaches, it's with an arm against her torso to grab the some mouthwash for them both. Leslie accepts it from him and rinses, both taking turns to spit in the sink. Ben watches her in the mirror with appreciation, mouth turned up and kissing her shoulder before they leave to the bedroom.

She climbs into bed after her does, getting under the comforter and cuddling below his raised arm against his chest. Leslie sighs, sleep tugging her down, but finds the energy to murmur, “You'll be here in the morning right?” It sounds stupid – of course he will, he lives here – but she can't handle the alternative of working with Ben, seeing Ben, and pretending they haven't just taken a huge step together.

“I'll be here, I promise,” he says while running his hand up and down her back. “This morning and the next... You won't be able to get rid of me.” And knowing that makes Leslie giddy and fearless, like they'll be able to handle anything.

 


End file.
